


Honor

by Jayde_Spell



Series: Brother, [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Cannon-Typical Violence, Gen, Non-Graphic Torture, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-graphic Domestic Abuse, Not Good Guys - But Had Sad Lives, Perpetual Nausea, Poverty, Ritual, Russia, Starvation, Violence, mild aseptic mentions, older brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayde_Spell/pseuds/Jayde_Spell
Summary: When Vladimir is born, Anatoly is ten. His mother is crying. The man helping his mother through this is not a doctor. They are very, very poor.





	Honor

**Author's Note:**

> Non-Beta’d. New to publishing works!

When Vladimir is born, Anatoly is ten. His mother is crying. The man helping his mother through this is not a doctor. They are very, very poor. 

Anatoly had always been more aware of cleanliness than other boys his age. When he had the opportunity, he would make sure he was clean. Would wash his hands before dinner, and his mother would always smile precariously at him. 

The man in charge of taking care of his mother and swift-coming sibling did not bother to wash his hands. 

In an abstract way, Anatoly did not expect to love this new child. In fact, he was mildly concerned that his mother's new man would throw him out once his own child was born. He does not expect to feel his heart beat wildly when his mother starts screaming, does not expect to throw up at the sight of blood pouring out of his mother's small body. She is young, he thinks. She is weak. He does not expect to cry when his younger brother is born, but then again, he did not think their mother would die. 

There is a curling sort of hatred licking in his spine. A violence he can feel growing, impending, on his lips. He wants to be cruel, and leave this child to its own devices as its father has, in grief.

He feels a sickly sort of sweat start to collect on his small body as he approaches the bed. His mother is dead. He has all the intentions of being cruel, but he stops. The baby is small, so tiny, and it starts to cry out, and Anatoly believes with all his soul that it called out to him. He picks the baby up. It’s father is gone, their mother too, so Anatoly guesses he'll have to be the baby's mother and father. 

He names him Vladimir. It is a strong name. He hoped that the name would somehow leak its essence into his little brother. 

-

He raises Vladimir to be strong. He feeds him meat and milk and makes sure the toddler knows how to kick and scream. It comes in handy when Vladimir's father (and that word never felt right connected to that man) tried to leave him on the streets while Anatoly was out. But thankfully he was never far, and the call of his brother is far louder in his ears than any other. Never hesitated before he washed the mud and grime off his brother. 

"I am hungry, Tolya." Vladimir says quietly. His tiny little hand is resting on his leg. Anatoly's heart pangs. 

He knows he needs to get food, and soon. His Volodya would not ask unless it was serious. 

"Soon, brother. Soon." 

-

Crime has always been a part of his life. His father was a dealer, and now Anatoly is one.  
He does not intend for Vladimir to be involved in this part of his life but hell, the boy asks so many questions that he is not ready to answer, is so demanding and altogether present in a way that Anatoly has never been himself. But it is no surprise to him that Vladimir is strong, is not surprised by his ruthlessness but maybe he finds himself wary. 

He does not intend for Vladimir, his baby brother, to got to jail but then again what is said about intentions? His brother is fourteen and dangerous, and when catches Anatoly's boss hitting him, he hits the man in his heart and it goes out.

-

Vlad is a tank. Muscle and spite sinnuetted together in his body. Anatoly relies on him, now. They are no longer child and parent when Vladimir turns eighteen, but brothers. And it leaves something suspiciously sweet in his mouth, a thought too good to ponder, and a question on his lips he does not manage to spit out. 

Vladimir is an asshole. But he is Anatoly's asshole. He is his problem, his joy, and his pain. It does their business partners well when they learn this, that they cannot touch Vlad like he can, that they are not created equal. His brother makes him feel alive, hungry, and violent, but never desperate, never afraid (except when it is for him) and never makes him feel alone. Vlad is his. 

They are royalty, born and set apart from other men. They come to Moscow, not to prove this, but to take their place. They are princes among dirt. ( they are all dirt compared to you, Tolya. dirt. ) 

-

They don't have the best of luck, him and Valdimir. And after five years of hell in Moscow is hell in prison. They are beaten. And starved. And separated. And flayed. And cold. And hungry. And wet. They are always hungry. Always wet. He sneaks Vlad food, sneaks him warmth. But they know. They know of him and Vladimir and so they are beaten. They are starved. Separated. Flayed like meat. They are cold and hungry and wet and always they are this they have lived this way for too long and he does not want to forget the color of Vladimir's eyes because he has no doubt that the universe is that cruel and he is so afraid and alone and he worries.

Vladimir? Brother. Are you there? ( can you hear me?? please say you can please please I cannot breathe in and out the same without you. my pain and my joy. ) 

A month has passed when they are reunited. The police are bored, or perhaps have forgotten about them. Anatoly thanks God. His brother is standing, he was always so strong, and embraced him confidently, securely. 

"I have missed you," his brother says. 

Anatoly is weak, like his mother. 

"Vladimir." He manages to choke out. He collapsed into his brother's waiting, strong, if somewhat bony, arms. ( they have not been feeding him at all, have they? ) He longs to scrub his brother's hands clean of the filth and the dirt that caked them. Soon.

-

America is whispered between them like a secret word. America. It is new. It is something sweet between them, a question Anatoly has on his lips that reaches out and sinks into Vladimir's skin. Scarred, his brother is, outside to match what is in. Anatoly does not like to think of the monster his brother is. 

"We will go to America." Vladimir tells him. Anatoly has never had reason to doubt, so he rests, like Vlad urges him to do, and trusts in his brother like he has since he became a man. 

-

He wishes he were stronger. If he were stronger then he would have found a better home for Vlad. Would have protected the innocence that was once in his brother's eyes, should have killed himself before any harm ever came to his brother. Made sure his brother never had dirty hands. But instead he just whispers "it is okay, it is okay" over and over until he makes himself believe it is true. Washes Vladimir's hands, both literally and spiritually. But Vladimir never needed convincing, never needed Anatoly to wash his hands, since he new he was going to dirty them up again. He is strong, his brother. Confident and assuming and so very present. 

"It is okay, Tolya. We will leave soon, I swear it upon you." 

And they did. Because Vladimir has never broken a promise. 

Anatoly has broken many promises. Has gone back on his word many times. Hands shaking, a sweat building up on his brow. He knows he has no honor, like his brother. Knows this intimately. ( do not worry Volodya. keep your worries at rest. there will be food soon. I will be there, Vlad. do not worry. this will not happen again. i will kill you if you ever say that to me again, Vladimir. I will never hurt you, brother. I believe you are good, I know it, i know it. ) 

-

A lot of times, sweet things turn bitter. Anatoly is intimately familiar with this. ( sweet like his name for Vladimir. sweet and strong Volodya. so eager to please. he has not called his brother this in more years than he is able to count. ) America is just another hell. Years of fighting and famine, years of bruises and scarring, years in a foreign land where everyone pretends to be kind. They are royalty. He knows this in his blood. Knows this because Vladimir has prophesied it. 

"We are princes, brother." Vladimir's smirk is cruel, like everything about him, and Anatoly tries not to shake. Is not paying attention to the direction of his hand. He abuses the one he loves once, and once only. Let's him fall to his knees, because monsters cannot be hurt? Can they?! 

"Tolya." His brother's voice shakes in a way he is unfamiliar with, and bile rises in his throat and he upchucks in the bathroom in their perversion of a palace. 

Vladimir is where he left him. On his knees. A small track of blood falling from his mouth onto the floor. Passively waiting. Or despairing. ( no no no no no not his brother not his Vlad, his love, his pain and his joy, so so strong. on his knees is wrong this is not where he is supposed to be ) he drops to the ground in front of his brother and looks into his eyes. He knows Vladimir's eyes are cruel, and a light blue, but here, in this change of scenery he sees something that rocks him to his core. 

Sorrow. Betrayal. And confusion so innocent that Anatoly feels a pang in his chest that makes him stutter in shock. His strong little brother... he had forgotten that Vlad could still feel. 

They do not speak. Even though they should. If Anatoly were strong, he would tell his brother that he loved him. That he was sorry. So so dreadfully sorry. If he were a man he would beg for forgiveness for having the audacity to forget that Vladimir had a soul, for abusing it with his fists, for not thinking his brother needed his approval still. But all he chokes out in his scratched throat is 

"Volodya,"

( how dare he forget how precious this name is to him. how dare he forget to remind his brother that he is human. how dare he. ) 

And for the first time in his life, he sees Vladimir weep. 

The next day, when Fisk dares them to leave their honor behind, he does not ask it of Vlad. His strong, honor-filled brother. He will go, yes. He will go and explain everything. Anatoly has never had honor anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> ...like?


End file.
